Playing with Poison
by meggyandsophbff
Summary: Jimmy Worth was just an ordinary man living with his mother. But that all changed one day upon waking up to find that the man he'd been having dreams of was found dead on the pavement. After obsessing over the man for 2 years, he finds that Sherlock's returned. But so has Moriarty.


Moriarty scurried to the safety of the nearby chimneystack. He had to be ever so quick; quick enough to avoid Sherlock's haunting gaze. Sherlock had thought that Moriarty had killed himself, but quite the contrary had occurred. Moriarty had been preparing for this day for as long as he could remember. He even had a special gun made. The inside of his gun could fire a blank and fake blood all at once.

Gleaming around the edge of the chimneystack, Moriarty saw that Sherlock was on the phone. Sherlock was about to do it: he was about to kill himself. Something inside of Moriarty was making his stomach twist. There was a part of him deep down that had been cringing this day. He looked away from Sherlock to hide the horror from himself. "Don't look down," a voice whispered to Moriarty from inside of his mind. Moriarty aggressively rubbed his hands over his temples, trying to get the voice to stop. He knew that Sherlock had to die, but his mind would never forgive him for this. "Don't look down," the voice continued to whisper until the shot was fired. The shot was the most gut wrenching sound that Moriarty had ever heard. It was even more horrifying than the screams of all his victims put together.

"Sherlock!" Moriarty screamed as he ran to the edge of the rooftop. He looked down and saw Sherlock's body lying motionless on the ground. Blood drenched the pavement that was surrounding the body. Moriarty turned his back on the scene, and he felt happy again. He even felt invincible. A small but twisted laugh found its way out of Moriarty's mouth. He had won.

* * *

Jimmy awoke this time with a tear running down his face. God, he felt so stupid for being attached to these dreams and this man that kept appearing in them. _It's just a fictional being my subconscious is creating to fill my life's void _Jimmy kept thinking to himself, but his mind kept obsessing. Why did his dream have to kill the man this time? He lifted his right hand and wiped the tears away from his eyes.

"James Sebastian Worth, your breakfast is getting cold and you're about to be late for work!" Jimmy's mum yelled as she dropped the daily newspaper on the end of the bed.

"I'll be right down in a minute, mum," Jimmy replied as he picked up the paper. The paper's front-page story put him in a state of stupor. It read, "Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes Found Dead." And even more, the picture of the now late-Sherlock lying on the pavement was the exact same vision he had seen in his dream. _But how could this be? _he thought. He shrugged it off for the time being because he could not afford to be late for work again. For some reason, even though he got 8 hours of sleep each night, he'd been acting as though he'd only gotten a mere hour or so. Sometimes Jimmy didn't even show up to work. But funny thing, Jimmy couldn't remember even getting called in to work most days. He spent most of his time asleep while his mum went out to deliver homemade baked goods.

"Jimmy I'm headed out on a run, you be a good boy and get to work, yes?" Ms. Worth said.

"Mum, I'm not a little boy. I'm in my thirties," Jimmy said with the voice of a disgruntled teenager.

"Then why are you still living here?" Jimmy sat quietly. "Exactly. Please be good today." Jimmy gave his mum a small yet sincere smile as she left the house. Apart from sleeping and not showing up to work, Jimmy was a perfect mama's boy. He was as sweet as candy and he had no friends, so his mum had his divine loyalty.

Jimmy went over to grab a cookie to eat on his way to work. His mum had left a bowl of dough out on the counter. "Mum," he whispered with an adorable laugh. He loved taking care of her. After sticking the bowl of dough into the fridge, Jimmy realized he'd been holding drain cleaner. _How on Earth? I was not holding this a second ago._ Jimmy just shook the uneasiness off; it was probably just his sporadic sleep pattern. His mum probably had asked him to clean the kitchen drain. He couldn't remember, so he cleaned the drain anyway before he left for work.

* * *

Work today was nothing special for Jimmy. He'd gotten there on time and did the usual, reading forms and doing a bit of accounting. Jimmy really hated his job, but it paid decent and required very little social interaction. True, he screwed up a lot, but his boss had given him countless chances to redeem himself. He wasn't quite sure why. Maybe his boss had a thing for him. I mean, who could blame him? Others had told Jimmy on many occasions that he was an attractive individual.

One strange thing had occurred that day with his boss, Mr. Jones. Mr. Jones had seemed scared, even a bit on the border of petrified, when giving Jimmy his check today. Jimmy just assumed that he'd seen some bad telly the night before. He got paid so why was he to care?

* * *

"Mum! I'm home!" Jimmy announced as he walked inside the door after his unusually long day of work. It had even grown dark outside. There was silence, which was odd. Ms. Worth was always excited when Jimmy got home from work. "Mum?" Jimmy nervously said, his voice starting to crack. Still no answer. Maybe she was taking a nap? Jimmy's keys fell out of his hand and hit the floor when he turned the corner. "MUM!" Jimmy cried out in devastation. Ms. Worth was lying dead on the kitchen floor. There was no blood surrounding the body, so Jimmy first assumed that she fell from illness. But she hadn't been ill? After crying helplessly for a few minutes, he ran upstairs and grabbed the newspaper that was still on the edge of his bed. There was a number at the bottom of the Sherlock article and he rang it. And the voice at the other end was eager to come pay Jimmy a visit.

Soon enough, a man came knocking on Jimmy's front door. The man pinned Jimmy up against a wall when the door was opened. Jimmy was bewildered. He'd no clue what was going on. The man realized his mistake and released Jimmy. "Oh, I'm so very sorry. Your voice sounded familiar on the phone. I'm Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade."

"Worth," Jimmy replied as he shook hands with Lestrade. Lestrade was just as confused as Jimmy was. He thought that Jimmy's voice had sounded similar to Moriarty's. But fact was, Jimmy's voice was higher pitched. And Jimmy was ginger. The whole 48 hours were just taking a toll on Lestrade. He couldn't believe Sherlock was actually dead.

"So, your mum? Ms. Worth? She's dead and there's no sign of murder or illness?" Jimmy nodded. "Well, I usually have a dear friend take cases like this, but-"

"It's okay, I read what happened. To Mr. Holmes." Jimmy tackled Lestrade with a hug. "Let's hug it out." Jimmy began sobbing on Lestrade's shoulder. Lestrade tried pushing Jimmy off of him, but he sure had a hell of a grip.

"Shhh it's okay," Lestrade finally gave in and began comforting Jimmy. _Oh God please get me the hell out of here _Greg thought. But in all honesty, Lestrade kind of did need a hug today.

After realizing the passing time, Jimmy finally let go and said, "Oh I'm so sorry Mr… um… Gavin was it?"

"It's Greg!" Lestrade screamed. "And it's Detective Inspector Lestrade to you! Now, lets get to the scene, shall we?" Jimmy led Lestrade to the kitchen but couldn't stay for too long. He couldn't stand the sight of the scene. He plopped down on the couch in the living room and flipped on some telly.

* * *

Lestrade had told Jimmy that he was taking his mother for an autopsy and that he'd call when it was complete. That week, Jimmy had some of the best nights of sleep that he'd ever had. And he also had an improved work performance. Mr. Jones was so pleased that he gave Jimmy a raise. Even though he was sleeping and satisfied with work, Jimmy was more miserable than ever. His mom was dead and he had no friends. The fictional man in his dreams had even deserted him. He had no one. Jimmy's shattered brain needed a fixation, and he indeed found one: Sherlock Holmes. Jimmy couldn't help but think about the eerie things that happened to him the day after Sherlock's death.

It was a Tuesday, about a week and a half after his mum's death, when Detective Inspector Lestrade called the house. Jimmy had been reading up on Dr. Watson's blog. Some of the blog entries had details in common with his dreams. This couldn't be a coincidence, but he had no clue how all of this could logically be happening.

"Mr. Worth," Lestrade said on the other end of the phone. "Your mother, she committed suicide."

"Suicide?" Jimmy said in shock. That certainly could not be right? His mom was the sweetest and happiest woman. She would never do such a thing.

"The cause of death was ingested drain cleaner, " Lestrade said. Jimmy dropped the phone on the floor. _No_ he thought. _This is not happening_. Jimmy angrily threw the lamp off of the side table. It hit the wooden floor and the light bulb shattered into pieces.

"No!" Jimmy screamed.

"Mr. Worth?" the voice on the other end of the phone said. Jimmy ran over to the phone and hung up immediately.


End file.
